


teach me how to love.

by castawaypitch



Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [20]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown Day 21, First Time, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by a Shawn Mendes Song, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Romantic Gestures, Touching, but it's not explicit, god they're so in love, i'd call it making love, like yes they're going to have sex, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castawaypitch/pseuds/castawaypitch
Summary: Carry On Countdown Day 21: Warmth.Put my hands around you,Oh, teach me how to touch you, tease, caress you, and please you,Teach me how to love.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026276
Kudos: 45
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	teach me how to love.

**Author's Note:**

> as soon as [teach me how to love](https://open.spotify.com/track/5LZtB6nxvjIhUoElp3Zqk0?si=yvGZN0GoSXi-zt81Kt5TTw) came out, i knew i had to write something about it, so, here i am.  
> hope you enjoy reading <3

Simon Snow is laying on the sofa. His head resting on my lap, his hand holding mine.

This is my happy place. _He_ is my happy place.

It’s snowing outside, a few snowflakes get caught in the windows. The world is cold — _I’m_ cold most of the time— but Simon is always warm.

His shiny blue eyes observe me entirely, starting from my torso up until my face, going through my neck and my jaw. A small smile draws on him when he realizes that I haven’t stopped staring at him, not even a single second.

I lean into down, just enough to kiss him. I've never told him, but his lips taste like cherry and butter; I quite like it (who am I kidding? It drives me crazy).

It doesn't take so long for him to get up, sitting on my lap. His hands grip my hair, sliding his fingers through it.

My lips form a trail of little kisses from his mouth, across his entire face, to his neck. I kiss each mole and each freckle gently, as if I were tracing a map of constellations on his skin. The two moles under his ear, that remind me of my own scars from when I was turned, have always been my favourites. I whisper in his ear how much I love him, and feel his pulse racing. I smile, my teeth caressing his skin.

Simon holds my chin, making me look at him. With his hair tousled and his lips swollen, he seems to me the most beautiful being I've ever seen. And knowing that he has chosen _me_ , of all people, makes me feel special. If he asked me to, I’d get on my knees by his mere presence: I am absolutely devoted to him. 

I feel the skin on his back shivering at the cold touch of my hands, gradually shedding his shirt. His lips part open a little before giving me a smile, which I can't resist kissing.

Loving him hasn’t been easy, although I believe that love itself isn’t. There will always be unhealed wounds between us, but the secrets and resentment, kept for years, are left behind now.

Both of us standing in front of my bed, the distance between us appears again, more bearable than ever before. We’ve never get this far, and both of us, so inexperienced and nervous, can only laugh. And that's when the tension breaks.

His trembling hands start to unbutton my shirt, button per button, taking time to caress the skin as they go. We are so close to each other that I feel his breath mixing with mine.

"Are you sure?” I ask him. I've dreamt of this in a thousand different ways, and I need to know that he wants it too, that he desires me too. Simon nods, and my hands finally reach his skin again.

My shirt finally slips off my shoulders, falling to the floor. I sigh when I feel the skin of his chest touching mine. His hand reaches for mine, holding it firmly, and placing both hands upon his heart.

"Tell me what you desire."

His eyes stay fixed on my lips as I whisper, and it takes him a couple of seconds to respond.

"You."

I nod, kissing his lips again. My hands caress his back, resting on his shoulder blades, where his wings are hidden. I know it is a sensitive spot, and my ego increases when I feel him shivering.

I move my hands to the front, looking for his hands again. When I find them, I let him direct my movements, make me touch him the way he wants; I want him to feel comfortable, I want him to teach me how to love him. We have all the time in the world to learn from each other.

His hands guide me through the waist, until I slowly reach his hips; my fingers trace the curve of his bones, without reaching the centre. Simon's breathing speeds up a little when I touch him; I can't help but grin.

My lips go down his neck, gently sucking the skin, leaving no marks. I go all over his torso, until I reach the lines that my fingers have already touched. I kneel down in front of him, and my name escapes his lips in a soft moan, which sends an electric rush through my body.

"Simon" I whisper over the skin of his low belly. His hands guide mine to the waistband of his trousers, which I manage to slip until they touch the floor.

I hold on his thighs, pleased to hear his breath getting faster as I kiss him over the fabric of his pants. I give a look up, and he’s staring at me. He nods, telling me to carry on.

He gets hard under my mouth. I want him so bad, but I have to wait. If he’s still decided, I want it to be special for him. I want him to hear all the beautiful things I have to say to him, I want to get lost on the taste of his skin.

I stand up again, and as soon as I do, his hands go to the front of my trousers, getting rid of them. 

To be honest, I'm still nervous, and I know he is too. I feel vulnerable, but absolutely at his mercy. I follow his movements as he leads me to the bed, staying underneath me. I hold him close to my chest, lifting him a little until he can rest his head on the pillows.

I don't want to stop kissing him, but I need to know that this is what he wants, that everything is fine.

"If you want me to stop, I’ll do, Simon."

He giggles nervously, shaking his head. "I want us to go all the way, Baz. I'm fine. I want you to make me touch the heaven with your kisses."

It's dark outside, but the snow is still falling against the window. It's an irony that everything is so cold right now, except us.

His hips are rising to touch mine, making me moan his name. Clearly, he liked it, because he's doing it again. My hands touch him desperately, anxious to be able to go over every inch of his skin. His hands play their part with my body, but it doesn't matter: I am his, completely, and for the rest of eternity.

When I look at him, the ocean in his eyes invites me to lose myself in him. I gladly do.


End file.
